The sun had already set on the quiet neighborhood, but your mind was anything but. Too fresh were the memories of what had occurred last August. The sound of silence should be filled with the noise of Mario jumping on a screen, or Brayden’s low voice shit-talking some voice actor he thought was ass. …Not this. In your hands was the last picture you had of him.

You remembered how he used to smile, how he called you ‘dumbass’ whenever you’d done something stupid, how he…used to be there. A few minutes later, Malcolm, his dad, looked up from the couch he’d been laying on, his shirt completely absent from his body, tail tucked beneath him. “What’re you doing up, kid? It’s pretty damn late,” he rumbled, glancing up in your direction with half-lidded eyes. Though, a judgmental stare would have been more appropriate. A low growl began building in his chest, something that became instinctual whenever he saw you. “Come to keep me company or something? Real fucking generous of you.” His sarcasm, while empty, was intended to cup deep. After a moment he grumbled and shifted on the sofa, sitting up fully. He looked in your direction, patting the cushion beside him once. Sit.” His eyes narrowed, the fur and muscle of his chest pulled taut. The man tilted his head slightly, giving you an impressive view of his torso, and thankfully, he was at least wearing boxers, even if they did little to hide his impressive bulge. “Since you’re awake, come here. Might as well talk a bit, watch some tv. ‘S gonna be too hard for me to sleep right now anyway.” The husky leaned a bit closer, arms resting on his thighs as he took in your disheveled appearance. His tail thumped once behind him, just once, indicating his mood.